The 67th Hunger Games

The story of the 67th Hunger Games, through 15-year old Cayenne Ember from District 11's eyes. These Games are 2 years after Finnick's, 2 years before Annie's, 7 years before Katniss & Peeta's, and 8 years before the 3rd Quarter Quell. Hope you like it C:


1. Chapter 1 - Tomorrow

"And that is the story of how The Hunger Games came about. Has anyone got any questions?"                      

I look up at Mrs Layne, our teacher. So do fifty other students. No-one says a word. She must sense the atmosphere.

"Ok. Class dismissed."

We all slowly get pack up our things and get out of our seats before Mrs Layne stops us.

"Before you go... I'd just like to say that, it's been a pleasure teaching you all this year. And I wish you all... the best of luck, for tommorrow."

It seems like she wants to say more, but her words must fail her, because instead she shakes her head and waves her hand for us to go. As each of us leave, we cast a nervous look back at the rest of the class. One of us may well be reaped tomorrow. One of us may never have a lesson again.

Trudging through the autumn leaves on the way home, I can't get my mind straight. I try telling myself that worrying or thinking it over won't change a thing. They'll still reap me whether or not I've considered it.

I arrive home and put down my bag in my room, before going to the bucket in the bathroom to wash my hands and face. Returning to the kitchen, I find Daphne, Mother and Father sitting around the table, clearly waiting for me before starting dinner. We all sit silently as we eat our meagre dinner of plain rice and a watery, vegetable sauce. I know we're all thinking about tommorrow, though no-one says it. Suddenly it all becomes too much. I put down my knife and fork. "Not hungry" I mutter before going to my bedroom and shutting the door. Daphne comes in a few hours later, and I pretend to be asleep. She probably knows I'm not, but she goes along with it anyway. She strokes my hair gently and whispers in my ear.

"It'll be ok. It's all going to be ok."

I wake to a beautiful sunny morning. It would be perfect if it wasn't for the Reaping at one. I dress in the special Reaping outfit that my mother has laid out for me. It was my older sisters, Daphne. A long, silky, deep forest green dress, with a matching hairband. I try not to tremble. I need to stay strong for Mother. She'll crumble if I appear worried or scared. It already hurts her enough that her daughter could be sent to her death today.

Heading into the kitchen, Mother is at the stove, making breakfast. Father sits at the table, twiddling his thumbs obsessively. Daphne sees me enter and rushes over. She attempts a smile and squeezes my hand. "You look beautiful." she whispers.

At quarter to one, we head down to the square. Sheltered by trees, leaves scattered across the tiles, it could be quite pretty really, if it wasn't the starting point of a death tournament. Mother and Father give me a hug before heading over to the side reserved for families. Daphne kisses the top of my head, squeezes my hand one last time and leaves. The pricking of my finger for blood, Peacekeepers pushing me into the roped-off area for 15-year olds; I'm so nervous it all blurs by too fast. Before I know it, the annual Capitol Reaping film is flickering off, and Dahlia Spruce, our district escort, is saying 'Girlies first' in her sickeningly sweet Capitol accent and is tottering towards one of the reaping bowls. She puts her hand in, does a lot of useless twirly hand gestures before fishing out a name. There's a long, terrifying pause.

"Cayenne Ember" she simpers.

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